


A Welcome Detour

by msraven



Category: Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Christmas Fluff, Family Fluff, Feelstide 2013, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil decides to make a spur-of-the-moment trip to Vail to spend Christmas with his new boyfriend, never expecting the series of detours that will lead him to something much more than he ever imagined.</p><p>A Christmas AU for Feelstide based very loosely on the movie "The Road to Christmas"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Welcome Detour

**Author's Note:**

> For Feelstide Prompt #61: Single Dad Clint and his kid are hitting the road to spend the holidays with family/friends. Phil is trying to get to his fiancé before Christmas, but every mode of transportation has failed him so far (airports closed, car breaks down, etc.). He ends up hitching a ride with Clint, and feelings ensue. …aka the Road to Christmas AU…
> 
> Since the fic is only loosely based on the movie and the prompt, you don't need to have watched it to read this. Let's just say there are certain aspects of the movie that makes me twitch and I had to tone them down for my own sanity.
> 
> Beta'd by and written for kultiras. I hope I did your prompt justice. ♥ ♥ ♥ You are the best!

"Hey Dad," a girl's voice says from nearby, catching Phil's attention. "That guy looks like he needs some help."

Phil pulls himself out of his depressed stupor and glances toward the source of the voice. There's a girl, probably thirteen or fourteen, standing next to an old pick-up truck. As Phil watches, the man he assumes is her dad walks around the back of the truck holding onto the leash of a scruffy looking dog. The man looks over and a shiver of awareness runs down Phil's spine. 

The man is gorgeous. He has strong, chiseled features and eyes – whose color Phil can't quite decipher at this distance – that hold a quiet intensity that leaves Phil feeling suddenly overexposed. The man has several day's worth of stubble on his jaw, his hair is a mess of dark-blonde spikes, and he is wearing a well-worn flannel shirt over battered jeans and black combat boots. In short, he is everything Phil has tried to train himself not to be attracted to.

"He looks fine to me," the man says as his eyes sweep over Phil.

Phil finds himself straightening and fighting a blush at the man's appraisal.

"If he were back in Manhattan, yeah," the girl responds sarcastically, with an exaggerated eye roll that makes Phil smile.

Phil has to agree that he must look out of place at this truck stop in his three piece suit and Louis Vuitton luggage. It's definitely the last place he expected to end up when he decided to make this trip – stuck in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to get anywhere else, let alone Vail. He doesn't even know where he is, only that he's about halfway between New York and Columbus.

"You realize that I can hear both of you?" Phil points out.

The girl smirks and the man rubs the back of his neck, looking adorably embarrassed, before they both walk closer to Phil.

"Sorry," the man mumbles. "Do you actually need some help?"

Phil gives them his most non-threatening smile and pats the dog's head when it noses inquisitively at his hand. "Actually, yes. I'd love a ride to the nearest city where I could arrange for other transportation. According to the mechanic, my engine's shot."

The man looks over Phil's shoulder to the small garage next to the truck stop, his eyes widening when he sees Phil's car. The girl leans around Phil to get her own look and then straightens quickly, laying a restraining hand on her father's arm.

"You're not actually leaving her _here_ are you?" the man asks, sounding horrified.

"Uh… I hadn't really figured that out yet."

"Look, sir," the man says, giving Phil another appraising look. "I'm not going to assume to know your money situation, but please let me arrange for someone trustworthy to pick her up and drop her off with your usual mechanic. A beauty like her deserves more than to be left with someone who won't treat her right."

"I don't have a usual mechanic," Phil admits guiltily. "I live in Manhattan and never needed a car or a mechanic before. Lola's previous owner assured me she was in perfect working condition and I was too enamored with her to question him."

"My dad owns a garage in New York. He can fix anything."

"I appreciate your vote of confidence, Katie-Kate," the man says fondly and then turns back to Phil. "I can give you an assessment of what's wrong with her when we get back. I can also give a you a list of other mechanics in the city to talk to, so you don't need to just take my word for it."

"That's very reputable of you. Thank you."

"My dad really is the best. Even Tony St–"

"That's enough, Kate," the man interrupts and pulls a cell phone out of his back pocket, handing the leash over to his daughter. "I'm sure that Mr…"

"Coulson, Phil Coulson."

"I'm sure that Mr. Coulson would prefer to make his own decisions on who can best care for Lola." Phil feels a rush of warmth that the man is referring to his car by name with no trace of teasing. "I'm Clint, by the way. Barton. This is Kate and the mutt licking your shoe is Lucky."

"It's nice to meet all of you," Phil replies with a warm smile. "I really do appreciate the help."

"Not a problem. Let me make some arrangements and then we can take you into Columbus."

Clint walks past Phil towards Lola and it's only the fact that Kate is standing in front of him that keeps Phil from trying to catch a glimpse of Clint's ass. Her eyes sparkle with mischief and Phil gets a horrible feeling that she can tell exactly what he's thinking.

"You can put your stuff in the truck," Kate suggests, unsuccessfully trying to dampen another smirk.

Phil follows her to the truck and learns that Kate is actually fifteen, Clint is thirty-five, and they're on their yearly drive to Colorado to visit Clint's old foster mom. The unexpected coincidence has Phil stuttering out that his final destination is Vail.

"Hey Dad!" Kate calls out when she sees Clint headed toward the truck. "Mr. Coulson's headed to Vail too. We can drive him the whole way."

"Katie, I'm sure Mr. Coulson would prefer a few hours of flying over driving for two days."

"It's Phil and there actually aren't any flights available from anywhere nearby to Vail – because of the holidays," Phil says and wonders when he lost his brain-to-mouth filter as Clint eyebrows go up in surprise. "I, uh… looked into a lot of possibilities before hopping in my car. But I'm sure I can catch a bus or something in Columbus."

Kate does another one of her exaggerated eye rolls. "But we're going there anyway. Taking a bus would be beyond dumb."

"Katie," Clint admonishes and then shrugs at Phil. "She is right though. It doesn't make sense to lengthen your trip when we're going to the same place. We don't mind the extra company if you don't."

"I…" A thrill runs through Phil at the prospect of spending time with Clint and he has to forcibly remind himself exactly why he's taking this trip. "Yes, I mean, thank you. I would love to ride with you to Vail."

~^~

Kate keeps up a steady stream of questions as they drive and Phil finds it surprisingly easy to answer about his job as a Risk Analyst for a Wall Street firm, his loft in SoHo, and his two cats – Siegfried and Roy. Phil also learns that Clint is a widower, that they live in Brooklyn, and that Kate is on her high school archery team. Clint stays silent through most of the exchange, showing no reaction aside from a slight tightening around his eyes when Kate mentions her mother's death.

Despite her endless curiosity, it doesn't take long for the constant hum of the engine and the warmth of the cab to make Kate's eyes start drooping. Phil can't hold back a fond smile as she falls asleep between one question and the next. Clint moves his arm so that Kate can settle more comfortably against his side, his eyes full of warmth as they meet Phil's. It makes Phil wonder what it would feel like to have all that warmth and love directed at him and he has to look away at the sudden stab of longing in his gut. 

"Sorry about all the questions."

Phil, startled at the unexpected sound of Clint's voice, turns back toward the single dad. "It's fine – really. I didn't mind. Kate's a great kid. You're doing a great job with her."

"Nah. That's all her. I got lucky," Clint replies, flashing Phil a grin that's shining with pride. "I don't have the power of teenage cute to draw from, but do you mind if I ask another question?"

"As long as you don't mind my asking one in return."

"Sounds fair. What's so important in Vail that it's worth a two day trip through Middle America to get there before Christmas? You're not getting married or something, are you?"

Phil has to bark out a laugh at the idea. "God no. I think you've watched one too many Christmas specials. My reason is a lot less exciting and a lot more embarrassing."

"You can tell me to mind my own business."

"It's fine," Phil assures him and glances down to make sure Kate is really asleep before answering. "I've been seeing this guy and we've both been really busy at work, so we haven't... and well... he invited me to his company cabin in Vail for the holiday." 

Phil is glad that Clint's eyes are fixed on the road because he feels an uncharacteristic heat in his cheeks and thinks he may actually be blushing. 

"Wow. I mean, that's... wow. Talk about pressure. Driving nearly two thousand miles for a booty call is a lot to live up to. Shit! Sorry. I probably shouldn't have said that."

Phil laughs. It feels good, even if it's somewhat at his expense. "It's okay. You're right. It is a lot of pressure. But in my defense, I didn't plan on actually driving or getting stranded."

"Why didn't you guys fly out together?"

"Work. I didn't think I could make the trip at all. He doesn't know I'm coming."

"Ah," Clint nods. "That explains why you haven't tried to call him and I'm guessing you're not the type of guy to let a few obstacles get in the way of something you want. How'd you guys meet if you're both so busy?"

"Isn't it my turn for a question?"

"Oh! Right. Go ahead."

Phil pauses for a second, unsure if he wants to darken the light mood, but can't help succumbing to his own curiosity. "Do you mind my asking what happened to your wife? I understand if it's a difficult subject."

"It's good. It was a long time ago now." Clint's arm tightens unconsciously around Kate. "It was an aneurysm. Quick and totally out of the blue. I was away. Kate came home from school and Jess didn't meet her at the curb. A neighbor got the super and found her."

"I am so sorry."

"Thanks, but like I said, it was a long time ago. Jess and I... We were both so fucking young when Kate was born. Getting married seemed like the right thing at the time – we were each other's best friend – but I'm not sure it would have been enough to keep a marriage going. Kate though, she was and _is_ still the best thing to ever happen to me."

"So she takes after mother then?" Phil asks, glancing at Kate's long, dark hair and paler features. 

"Obviously. And now who's cheating at the questions?"

Phil laughs again, having forgotten how long it's been since he laughed and smiled this much. Clint grins back, but a loud bark from Lucky forestalls whatever questioned he had planned to ask. 

"Lucky's better than a gas gauge," Kate mumbles groggily and Clint gives her a final squeeze before letting her sit up. 

"There should be another truck stop coming up in a few miles."

~^~

Phil emerges from the bathroom and stretches before wandering slowly back towards the truck. For once, he feels no compulsion to check his phone messages or email, especially not when Clint gives him a wide smile in greeting as he approaches.

"Kate's not back yet. Would you mind watching Lucky while I hit the restroom?" Clint asks. "Or I can put him back in the truck if it's too cold out."

None of them had bothered bundling back up into their heavy coats for the short stop for gas. Phil is definitely feeling the cold through his suit jacket, but not enough to warrant depriving Lucky of a few more minutes of freedom.

"I don't mind," Phil replies and holds his hand out for Lucky's leash. 

Phil is distracted by the way the colors in Clint's eyes shift when he smiles and neither of them see the squirrel streak past until it's too late. Lucky barks and gives chase, easily tugging the leash out of their hands.

"Shit! Lucky! No boy! Come back here!" 

They run after Lucky until he and the squirrel disappear into a small wooded area behind the truck stop. Phil can't see which direction the dog ran in.

"Lucky! God damn it. Come here, boy!"

"I am so sorry," Phil apologizes. "I should have had a tighter hold on his leash."

"It's not your fault, I was holding onto it too." Clint looks around the area, but it's clear that there is no way to find Lucky without diving into the thick clump of trees and bushes. "It's just… _fuck._ Lucky means the world to Kate. We found him the night Jess died and we… we all needed a little rescuing that night. I can't just leave him here."

"Of course you can't."

"Dad! What's wrong? Where's Lucky?" Kate asks hurriedly as she runs up to them.

"He went chasing after squirrels again."

"He's in the trees and we were about to go after him."

Kate and Clint give Phil matching stares filled with skepticism. 

"Uh…"

"It's okay Phil. You can go back to the truck or maybe go stay warm at the diner. Kate and I can go in after Lucky."

"We'll cover more ground if there's three of us," Phil reasons.

Father and daughter share a look before Kate turns to Phil with a placating smile.

"Mr. Coul– uh, Phil," she says. "There's a lot of snow on the ground and you're not really dressed to be stomping through the trees after our dog. We'll be okay on our own."

"Nonsense," Phil argues with a sharp shake of his head. "I'll be fine and we're wasting time." He steps purposefully into the trees without waiting to see if they're following.

Phil soon realizes that the clump of trees is bigger than it looked from the outside. They've been searching for over thirty minutes with no sign of Lucky. He's starting to wonder if Lucky somehow slipped past them, when there's a joyous shout from Kate.

"Lucky! There you are! Come here, you silly dog. Dad! Phil! I found him!"

Phil is so relieved that he forgets to watch his step and slips on a patch of ice. His feet slide out from underneath him and he lands on the ground with a grunt. In the next instant, his view of the trees is replaced by a worried looking Clint.

"Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Is anything hurt?"

Phil is momentarily dazed by how nice Clint's fingers feel buried in his hair as he checks for a bump. He shakes himself out of it when Clint's brow furrows in concern.

"I'm fine. Nothing hurt but my pride."

"Come on, let's get you out of this puddle."

Clint helps him up and that's when Phil notices that he somehow managed to land in a small puddle of melted snow. His pants and jacket are now wet and he can feel the cold seeping into his skin.

"Are you okay?" Kate asks as she walks up with Lucky's leash firm in her grip.

"I'm fine," Phil tries, but is betrayed by his chattering teeth.

"There's a motel on the other side of the diner. It's late enough that we can just stay here and get Phil warmed up. Katie, why don't you run ahead and grab us a room? I'll take Lucky with Phil to grab our stuff out of the truck."

Kate runs off and Phil decides it's not worth the energy to argue with Clint's directives. He doesn't argue when Clint throws a spare blanket around Phil's shoulders at the truck and insists on carrying the overnight bag that Phil points out. There is only one room available in the motel, but it has two double beds and Phil is absurdly grateful for the warmth inside. He nods in agreement when Clint points to the bathroom as soon as they're in the room with a curt, "Hot shower. You're lips are blue."

It's not until he's finished with his extra long shower does Phil realize that he'd forgotten to grab a shirt along with his pajama bottoms. The army had trained him long ago not to be body-shy, so he goes out to the main room with only a small moment of hesitation.

"I sent Kate to grab food." 

Clint's voice is muffled under the shirt he's pulling on and Phil catches a glimpse of toned abs before they disappear under a thin layer of cotton. Phil has to swallow heavily as Clint's eyes roam over his bare chest, his gaze feeling like a brand as it travels across Phil's already heated skin. Phil lets his own gaze wander, Clint's threadbare shirt doing nothing to hide his muscular chest, shoulders, and arms. They each take an involuntary step toward one another and Phil isn't sure whether to thank or curse fate when a cold gust of air heralds Kate's return. Lucky barks, Clint turns away, and Phil uses the distraction to grab and put on his shirt.

"I have burgers and well… burgers," Kate announces, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"I'm starving," her dad responds and Phil wonders if he's only imagining the slight quiver in Clint's voice.

They eat dinner and watch a Christmas movie before deciding on an early bedtime, Kate grumbling good naturedly when Clint tries to cuddle with her on their shared bed. Phil valiantly tries to ignore the clench in his chest at their easy camaraderie and falls asleep to the sound of quiet voices wishing him a good night's sleep.

~^~

They hit the road early the next morning, Phil much more appropriately dressed in a pair of jeans – albeit designer ones – and a heavy, turtleneck sweater. The three of them pass the time playing random word and car games, making good time with only short stops for gas and lunch, but Clint has to slow down as the roads get icier and it's soon clear that they won't make it to Vail before dark.

"Moira lives about an hour outside of Vail," Clint says. "It's probably best you stay the night there and I'll take you to Vail in the morning. I'm really sorry, but I'm worried about driving over the icy roads at night."

"It's not a big deal," Phil responds. "Lawrence doesn't know to be expecting me. I don't mind if you're sure it won't be an imposition."

"Nana loves having company over," Kate assures him. "The more, the merrier, she always says."

Clint nods in agreement and they're soon pulling into a beautiful property with a large house surrounded by snow and trees. Kate barely lets the truck come to a stop before she's barreling out of the cab and into the arms of an older, but robust looking woman.

"I'm Moira Carson," she tells Phil after Clint is done giving her a large hug. "Kate says you've been stuck traveling with these two hoodlums for the past few days."

"I'm very glad for the ride. And Lucky is great company."

Moira laughs while Clint and Kate make noises of faux-outrage before Moira shoos them all inside, out of the cold. Dinner is a boisterous affair and Moira clearly loves embarrassing Clint with tales of his childhood, bemoaning the gray hairs induced by his constantly needing to show off his old circus skills.

"Were you really in the circus?" 

They've moved into the family room and Clint is sitting on the couch across from Phil, with Kate sprawled across it and her dad.

"Yup!" Kate answers for Clint. "You're looking at a headliner for Carson's Carnival of Traveling Wonders – Hawkeye: The World's Greatest Marksman. Greatest until I came along, of course."

Clint retaliates by tickling his daughter and the room is quickly filled with squeals and giggles. 

"I loved my brother dearly," Moira says fondly as Kate's laughter subsides, "but I will never understand why he ever thought that having a twelve-year-old as a headlining act was acceptable."

"Moira pretty much locked me in the house and wouldn't listen to old Carson's warnings about my being a handful to deal with," Clint adds. 

Moira rises from her chair and walks over to the couch, placing a hand on each of Clint and Kate's cheeks. "I don't regret one single second of it. After all, look at all of the joy it's brought me."

Clint ducks his head, but Kate just beams up at Moira lovingly. "Now which one of you troublemakers is going to help with the dishes?"

"Please, let me," Phil offers over Clint and Kate's groans. "It's the least I can do for all of your trouble having me here."

"It's no trouble, but I'm sure these two are grateful for the reprieve. Come on, then."

Phil follows Moira to the kitchen and they work efficiently through the dishes in companionable silence. It's not until they are nearly done with their task that Moira finally speaks up.

"Clint likes you. He's not normally this comfortable this quickly around strangers. Kate too, but she tends to believe the best in people, like her mother."

Phil startles and manages not to drop the plate he's drying. He thinks he should say something about meeting his boyfriend in Vail and that he's not interested in what Moira's suggesting, but finds himself replying with a simple, "I like them too."

Moira hums knowingly, but doesn't say any more as they finish drying the dishes and she directs Phil toward the barn where Kate should be practicing. Kate's not there, but seeing Clint draw and release his bow – each arrow landing in a cluster near the bullseye – makes Phil's breath catch in his throat and stirs an unexpected memory. He watches, enraptured, as Clint empties the quiver at his hip and then lowers his bow, taking a breath before turning to face Phil. 

"You're.. you're Clint Barton. _The_ Clint Barton. The youngest Olympian to ever win a gold medal in Archery."

Phil can't believe he hasn't figured it out until now. Clint had been the country's Golden Boy. There were talks of huge endorsement contracts and multi-picture movie deals. Everyone, including Phil, had fallen in love with the charismatic archer. Phil remembers at least one picture of his family after the medal ceremony, but Clint had been adamant about keeping his private life private. He'd disappeared completely from the media a few years after the Olympics and Phil realizes that it must have coincided with his wife's death. Phil knows without a doubt that Clint leaving the media spotlight was purely for Kate's benefit. 

"Does Kate know? About everything you've given up for her?"

Clint smiles softly with no regret in his eyes. "There was nothing to give up. None of that fame mattered. It was always for them anyway. Keeping a lower profile was just another way to give Kate the best life that I could."

"You're a good man, Clint Barton, and a great father."

"You really think so?" Clint's face lights up, as if Phil's opinion meant more than a total stranger's should and Phil can't help thinking back to what Moira had said in the kitchen. He can't explain this sudden connection between them, but Phil knows that walking away is not going to be easy for any of them. 

"Nana says it's time for cake," Kate tells them, walking back into the barn and automatically stepping into her father's embrace when he lifts his arm in invitation. 

Clint removes the quiver from his hip and leans it against a nearby column, before wrapping an arm around Kate once again and then holding a hand out to Phil. "Shall we?"

Phil, seemingly unable to do anything but follow his heart around this family, places his hand into Clint's calloused one. They walk back into the house hand-in-hand and Phil ignores his mind's condemnations, focusing instead in how right this feels.

~^~

Phil wakes suddenly in the early hours of the morning, disoriented until he remembers where he is and the house's other inhabitants. He isn't sure what woke him, but his instincts drive him out of the bed and into the quiet stillness of the house. Phil finds Clint in the kitchen with his hands braced on the counter and his head bowed. The single, overhead light drapes him in shadow, making Clint look incredibly beautiful and heartbreakingly lonely.

"Clint?" Phil whispers, stepping into the small circle of light. 

"I thought I was past being selfish, but you make me want things I know I can't have," Clint replies without looking up. 

"I still need to go tomorrow. I need to see this through." No matter how much Phil's heart is screaming at him to stay, Lawrence – the choice his mind says is the more logical fit into his life – sits like a yoke around his neck. "This isn't me. I can't jump into something like this without all the angles considered. You... you _and_ Kate deserve someone who doesn't have a cloud of doubt over his head."

Clint turns his head away, doesn't say a word, but defeat is clear in his stance and Phil is suddenly desperate to reassure him. 

"Clint, I–"

The kiss is both unexpected and inevitable. Clint moves faster than Phil thinks is humanly possible, his lips warm and insistent as they move against Phil's, pouring an overwhelming amount of longing and desire into the kiss. It's like nothing Phil has ever experienced and he falls into the kiss, gripping Clint's arms tightly and responding with equal fervor. Then Clint is gone as suddenly as he'd pressed himself against Phil, leaving him gasping and aching for more as he sags against the counter. 

Phil staggers back upstairs to his room and lays awake the rest of the night trying to organize his thoughts without much luck. All he can do is relive the kiss and think back on how much happier he's felt since Clint and Kate, and even Lucky, had stumbled into his life. He has a hard time imagining how they will fit into his ordered, overworked life, but yet can't fathom never seeing them again. 

Phil still has no answers by the time he hears the rest of the house beginning to stir. He gets dressed, packs his bags, and slowly makes his way downstairs, dreading the need to leave the warmth of this home and this family. 

Everyone is subdued over breakfast and Lucky whines pathetically as he sits on the porch with Moira while Clint, Kate, and Phil pile back into the truck for the short drive to Vail. When they pull up to the address Lawrence had given Phil, the cabin turns out to be much bigger than Phil was expecting and there a large group of cars parked outside. 

"He did say it was a company cabin," Phil reasons as Clint grabs his bags from the back of the truck. "It makes sense that he wouldn't be the only one taking advantage of it."

"Are you gonna be okay here?"

Phil takes the bags and smiles reassuringly. He's not at all intimidated by a bunch of Wall Street traders. "I'm fine. Thank you... for everything."

"Bye Phil. Don't be a stranger." Kate wraps her arms around him, squeezing tight and Phil hugs back with a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Merry Christmas Katie-Kate. It was wonderful meeting you. You take care of your dad and Lucky, okay?"

Kate gives him a final squeeze before stepping back and Phil is confronted with the blank mask Clint has adopted all morning. He holds a hand out and Phil reaches out to grip it tightly. 

"Give us a call when you get back to Manhattan. We can discuss the best thing to do about Lola."

This isn't how Phil wants this trip to end, but it's apparent that Clint is not in the mood to cooperate. "Of course. Bye Clint. Thanks again and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. Let's go Katie." 

Kate frown disapprovingly at her dad, but follows him down to the truck without argument. Phil has no choice but to turn away and head inside the cabin. He leaves his bags in the entryway, following the sound of voices deeper inside. There are a large group of people scattered in the living room and kitchen, all in designer ski wear and sipping cocktails despite the early hour. What stops Phil in his tracks is finding Lawrence, sitting in a chair next to the fireplace, with a woman sprawled in his lap giggling while he nuzzles at her neck near the top of her generous breasts. 

"Lawrence?!"

Lawrence looks up at the sound of Phil's voice, his eyes going comically wide as he awkwardly extracts himself from underneath the woman in his lap. He hustles Phil out of the room and back out to the hallway, away from the interested eyes of his co-workers. 

"Phil! What are you doing here?"

"You invited me," Phil reminds him. 

"You said you had to work and couldn't make the trip."

"And that makes it okay for you to hook up with someone else? I thought we agreed to be exclusive?"

"Oh come on, Phil," Lawrence scoffs. "The only thing you're exclusive with is your job. Talk about cold. The only passion you show is over those damn reports. What do you do? Jack off to your paperwork?"

Before Phil can think of a suitable response, a familiar hand locks onto Lawrence's shoulder, spinning him around so that Clint's fist can make contact with his jaw and send him sprawling down onto the floor. 

"Clint!" Phil cries and wraps an arm around Clint's waist to keep him from advancing on Lawrence, who gapes up at them from the floor.

"You are a fucking moron. If you can't see how good a man you've gotten, then you don't deserve him! How dare you disrespect him like this? I should–"

"Clint. Clint!" Phil tries again, relieved when Clint finally stops pushing against him to get at Lawrence. Their eyes meet and happiness surges through Phil when he sees the wealth of emotion in Clint's eyes. "He's not worth it. Let's just get out of here."

Phil moves them toward the entryway where Kate is waiting and scowling darkly at Lawrence.

"Should have brought my bow," she mutters as they grab Phil's bags and Phil feels a new surge of warmth at their joint protectiveness. 

They make the drive back to Moira's house in silence, but Clint holds Phil's hand the whole time and Kate leans against his side, both of them unabashedly happy that Phil is returning with them to Moira's house. Kate run inside as soon as they arrive, but Clint hangs back and Phil stays with him. 

"Lawrence was right about one thing," Phil says. "I do work too much and tend to spend more time in the office than at home."

Clint tilts his head and takes Phil's hand again. "Is that what you want? To work all the time? Are we just a weird holiday thing? Something you want on vacation, but don't really want in your life?"

Phil thinks about his normal, solitary dinners at his desk in the office or alone in his kitchen and then remembers laughing over burgers in the motel and the comfort of sitting in Moira's dining room the night before. He imagines coming home to Clint's home-cooked meals and hearing about Kate's day and Lucky begging for table scraps as they sit around a cozy table. Phil shakes his head and squeezes Clint's hand. 

"It's not what I want, not anymore. I want you, all of you, all the time."

Clint grins and pulls Phil into his arms. "We can do that."

"I can start cutting back at work. Nick's been on my case to delegate more. There will still be long hours some of the time, but I can try to–"

Clint cuts Phill off with a kiss and it's a few, long moments before they break apart again. 

"We'll figure it out," Clint says with simple confidence. "We can take it a step at a time. It doesn't have to be one huge leap at once."

"And if I want to make that leap?"

"Then we'll be here to catch you."

Clint kisses him again and all of Phil's worries fade away. A light snow begins to fall and Phil laughs as they break apart, tilting his head up to feel the flakes landing gently his flushed cheeks. This may not have been the destination Phil had planned on when he started his trip, but what he's gained in the process makes the unexpected detour the best Christmas present he never asked for.

~^~ _fin_ ~^~


End file.
